Days, Daze
by Stella B
Summary: Still at the start of her career, Rachel embarks on a new project that forces her to uncover certain aspects of herself that she's tied to an anchor and let sink deep down inside over the years, behind walls, and under barriers- Kurt/Rachel friendship.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own either Glee, Spring Awakening, or any other production that may be mentioned.

**Author's note: **

**1-**I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors that may occur, or inconsistency in plot that may be sensed.

**2- **This story revolves around a sort of long distance relationship, so it's seemingly dialogue based with occasional intervals of narration. It's also over a course of several years, so it will move fairly quickly. That's all, enjoy :)

September 2016

Early morning, the sun was bleak, yet there was still some light shining through the blinds. The alarm rang out, rather obnoxiously, as it always did. All together, the atmosphere seemed hostile in an exaggerated sense. Because Quinn Fabray wasn't a morning person, which is why she chose a profession that mostly wanted her functional at night. She never would have thought in a million years that she'd ever end up in a band- much less a drummer in a two-member band with a guy she met in her current girlfriend's bed one night in college, not that she was ever threatened by Sam, but that's how it was. She groans, willing the sound to stop, and the light to vanish, expecting Rachel to wake up and turn it off anyway, but when she opens her eyes, slowly, grudgingly, turning her back to look at the other side of the bed, Rachel is not there-

There was a light rustling in the next room. She quickly gets out of bed, puts on her robe, and shuts off the alarm. Her feet slip into a pair of worn out bunny slippers, her hand brushes through tangled hair, and she tries to rub the sleep out of her eyes as she heads into the living room.

It's a complete mess. There are papers thrown all over the room, crumpled, flat, and ones shaped into paper airplanes. A dozen cups of what she assumes were used for coffee are on every possible surface, on the table, between the cushions, and one dangling from Rachel's hand. She's curled up between Sam's legs, which's sprawled against Santana's stomach, and then there's the cat sitting on top of them.

She starts laughing, because although it's not the first time this happened, it never gets old. She grabs her phone, takes a few pictures for the scrap book, and walks over, careful not to trip on any shoes, or guitars, and gently nudges Rachel awake, "Hey, baby."

Rachel groans, quickly reacting to her touch, "What?"

"Your stupid alarm woke me up." She says gravely, "Do you need to wake up?"

"What time is it?" She yawns, snuggling closer into Sam's chest. "You smell weird."

Quinn laughs, brushing a stray strand of hair behind Rachel's ear, "I'm right here, sleepy head."

Rachel opens her eyes, looks around, then glances between Sam and Quinn, "I can explain." She says in a panic, her lips tugging a little at the end, before breaking into a smile.

"Yeah, sure." She winks, "Are you going to work?"

"No," She yawns, "It's Monday, no shows today."

"Then come to bed. You need to make up for what your stupid alarm interrupted.." She says distantly, obviously frustrated.

Rachel knows that look well, "Oh, a _dream_!" She whispers, "About me? What am I saying? Of course it was about me."

"Untangle yourself from this heathen and come tangle yourself with me." She says with a wink, turning around, and walking towards the bedroom.

* * *

><p>Rachel is lying on her stomach, her head resting on the pillow she's hugging, watching as Quinn traces something on her back. Quinn's fingers tread softly around a bruise that's starting to fade on Rachel's lower back, then adds in a throaty whisper, "Did I do that?"<p>

Rachel tilts her head, and laughs, "No, it's from when Noah and I went rock climbing the other day."

"Since when did you get so athletic?" Quinn asks playfully, placing a kiss where her fingers were still teasing the discolored skin.

"That feels nice." Rachel sighs, "I don't know- ever since the cast and I went to that skydiving thing, something, I don't know- clicked, I guess."

"Just be careful." Quinn says, reaching her hand to curl over Rachel's waist, hugging her closer to her chest, "If you ever hurt yourself, I'm going to kill you." She adds, kissing her shoulder.

"I make no promises." Rachel says solemnly, her lips tugging slightly as she feels Quinn's fingers dig into her side.

Quinn bites her shoulder, loving the squeal Rachel lets out in response. She rolls over to rest on top of Rachel, gently tapping on her knees so she could spread them apart, and when her legs fall open, she crawls in between them, placing lazy open mouthed kisses, from Rachel's knees, all the way up to her clavicles, across her jaw, before resting on her lips. "I love you, you know?"

"I know." Rachel responds breathily.

"I don't think you do." Quinn says, and it comes out in a playful way, but she means it.

"Then show me." Rachel challenges. And Quinn does, gladly.

* * *

><p>The smell of coffee brings Quinn into the conscious side of her brain. She never really liked coffee, but Rachel was an addict, and every time they kissed, she would taste it on her mouth, and eventually she grew to love it just as much as she loved the girl. Quinn stretches her arms, feeling the body wrapped around her, smiling as she watches Rachel's brow furrow in what appears to be a very unusual dream. She never would have pegged Rachel as a cuddler in high school, if anything; she assumed she was a flat on her back type of girl. She'd be lying if she said she didn't love it; the way Rachel curled her entire body to fit hers, almost like she needed her, rather than wanted her. It was nice. She had a theory that her biological clock readjusted itself when she and Rachel got together, because she loved watching her sleep, and not once in two years, did Rachel ever wake up before her.<p>

She lies there for a while, watching the girl sleep, thinking how adorable she looks and how lucky she is that she was here, in bed, with the most amazing girl she's ever met. Her train of thought is briefly interrupted by the sound of Rachel mumbling something incomprehensible. She looks at her with an amused smile, silently wondering what must be going on in that head of hers.

"No, no… sto-stop it." Rachel whimpers. And Quinn goes from amused to concerned in that one instant, "Let go…"

"Baby?" Quinn questions tentatively. She feels Rachel's hands clutch at her waist, and the concern escalates to worry. She shakes Rachel slowly, "Baby, wake up."

"_Please…"_ Rachel whimpers again, "don't."

"Rachel, sweetie, wake up." Quinn says, shaking her strongly this time, "Rach."

Quinn sees her eyes flutter, and waits impatiently as they open up slowly, "Quinn?"

"Hey." She says, softly, only slightly relieved. "What's wrong?"

"What?" Rachel asks, confused, her voice thick with sleep.

Not wanting to scare or startle her, she just smiles and says, "Nothing. Sam made coffee, want some?"

"Yes, please." Rachel answers desperately, laughing a little, as she stretches her arms out wide, her head resting on Qunn's lap, "When are you guys leaving tonight?"

"We should be at the airport by six." Quinn answers, her hands brushing the few strands away from Rachel's face, "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I filled my schedule with a lot of things to worry about and stress over in your absence." She winks, "That workshop Kurt and I have been telling you about- Spring Awakening- is getting a run at the Atlantic, and things are starting to get serious. My first original role, can you believe it?" She says excitedly, despite the hoarseness in her voice.

"You're going to be great, Rach." Quinn smiles, leaning down to place a lingering kiss on her forehead.

"I can't believe you aren't going to be here for my last Maria." Rachel pouts.

"Babe, I've seen almost every single version of your Maria." She laughs, kissing her nose, "And I'm sorry, it's a tour, you know how it is."

"Yeah, but still, everyone's going to be there except you." Rachel says, placing a kiss on the hand she was playing with, "It just sucks."

"_Believe_ me, I know- but it's just a couple more weeks and I'm all yours." She tells her, "Sam promised we'd take a longer break before the next album this time."

Rachel reaches her hand to brush the side of Quinn's face, and in a dreamy voice, she says, "Listen to you." She smiles proudly. "You're amazing."

"No, baby, it's you." Quinn holds the hand by her face, placing a kiss on the inside of her palm. "All you." She breathes, leaning down to kiss her lips.

After a brief, disgustingly passionate, loving embrace, the two pull away from each other, Rachel sighing, "Come on, we both need a shower."

Quinn tilts her head to the side, pouting, "I don't want to wash you off just yet. Can't I keep you for the plane ride?

"Q, as romantic as you're trying to make that sound, it's really just icky." Rachel says, rolling onto her belly and placing a kiss on Quinn's lips, "But you can join me, if you'd like."

"I would like." Quinn answers with a grin.

* * *

><p>"This is the last time…" Santana grumbles through her cereal, "No more opening act shit. I spoke with the record company this morning, you guys have a big enough following now to open your own fucking show."<p>

"Umm, why are you so mad?" Rachel asks warily, tugging on a strand of her, and brushing it behind her ear. "Isn't this good news?"

"Because those shitheads are shitheads." Santana growls. "They tried to fire me! ME. Nobody fires me. Nobody talks to me without a tremble in their voice and fear in their hearts. Satan himself would not offer to buy my soul."

"Sam and Q would never let that happen." Rachel assures her, "They need Lima Heights on their side." She rubs her shoulder comfortingly.

"Damn right." Santana nods, shaking away her anger, "So Q, how's it feel?" She asks, breaking into a grin as she sees Quinn's shell-shocked face.

"I-I.."

Rachel beams as she notices her girlfriend. She jumps up onto the counter behind Quinn, to give her a better height advantage, and hugs Quinn to her chest, between her legs, and places a kiss on her cheek. "THIS IS INCREDIBLE!"

"God…" She breathes out, "Wow."

"Give her a few seconds." Rachel tells the room, " SAMMY!" She screams in the meanwhile, jumping down and into his arms as she hugs him tightly. "You did it!"

"I can't believe it!" Sam grins, twirling once with Rachel in his arms before she settles back on the ground, "But I will take it.

After a celebratory lunch, everyone goes their separate ways, agreeing to meet in a couple of hours over at Kurt and Blaine's apartment. Kurt was the only one out of the five friends that owned a car; so naturally, he acted as the chauffer for such things as airport drop offs. In addition to the emotional support Rachel would lean on whenever Quinn had to leave. She always took it silently, never displaying how much it actually hurt her for Quinn to leave, but Kurt knew her too well; the two were similar in more than just their musical aspirations, so he created a ritual for whenever Quinn and Sam left for a tour. They'd go down to the Corner Bakery by their Soho apartment, grab a cup of coffee afterwards, walk around searching for flea markets, buying complete nonsense; old playbills, screwdrivers, vintage video games for Puck, used classic books for Quinn, pimped up denim jackets for Santana, and rare action figures for Sam. It always made them happy, and afterwards, they'd check out a few galleries, because Kurt loved admiring the "struggling artists" that always hung out there. Rachel secretly loved it too, though she would always make sure their was a painting in her line of sight to avoid Kurt's accusation's of emotional cheating, which is hypocritical, given that Blaine is still in the equation. But it was always innocent, and it distracted Rachel well enough.

The next day, Kurt and Rachel were at the theater almost as soon as they woke up. Their director had an epiphany in the middle of the night, and he all but dragged them out of bed- as much as you can through the phone, that is- and into the theater. It was a chilly morning. Kurt had slept over, so they just put on a casual jean, t-shirt combination, and headed over there as soon as possible.

Duncan, the songwriter, was pacing the stage when the cast came in. He looked at them with a look of relief, lifted his hands, and motioned for them to sit on the first row of seats. Their director, Michael, was sitting at the edge of the stage, "Nineteenth century Germany." Michael says in a narrative voice, Duncan joining him as soon as he started talking, "Now, imagine that," he smiles, "as a rock musical."

"Okay…" Johnny, the guy playing the second male lead, drawls out. "Isn't that what it is?"

"That's it!" Michael laughs, "That _is_ it."

"The music is contemporary, yes." Duncan agrees with Johnny, " But… what he means is, in an intense, radical split from what's happening in the scene sort of way."

"I'm not sure I follow." Kurt says, voicing the confusion everyone was feeling.

"Instead of singing to your counterparts, you're going to pull out microphones and just wail the songs, as if in a concert." Michael explains.

"When the music is happening, it's like out of time, kind of a fantasy, but as soon as it stops, the scene fades back into 1890's Germany." Duncan elaborates. "It creates an interesting historical juxtaposition."

"Or it could be plain bad." Michael shrugs, "I mean the concept is precarious." It's almost as if he was talking to himself, "It could be perceived as pretentious." He mumbles, before snapping out of it, clapping his hands together, "But that's why we called you kids."

"We want to try it out." Duncan nods, "We'll start off with Rachel and the girls, then with Johnny and the boys… Kurt and Blake, I think Steven wants to rewrite one of your scenes, go check with him in the back."

After they do a run through of the first couple of musical numbers, Michael looks over at Rachel and Gavin, and motions for them to follow him to the side of the stage, "Guys, we're doing some major rewrites, so we're going to skip the _I believe_ scene for now. Let's do a quick run through of the beating scene…"

Rachel groaned inwardly. She hated this scene. Every night, she'd fall asleep looking forward to the next day of rehearsals- up until she thought about this particular scene. It was always nagging at her, and she couldn't figure out why it made her feel the way it did. She was an actress; it wasn't supposed to bother her as much as it did. And what was worse is that she didn't give it her all, and Rachel Berry always gave it her all. She put in the least amount of effort in that scene, but enough to get away with it, just to get it over with.

Everyone seems to be too distracted doing their own thing, so Gavin and Rachel take up the empty side of the stage, and read through the script- they throw the pieces of paper once Michael stands up to give them a few pointers, "Here, hold her arm, turn her around- I want to see the conflict."

Gavin tries to grab Rachel arms as gently as possible while also trying to make it seem aggressive, "Like this?"

"Yes." Michael agrees, looking at them inquisitively, "Rachel, darling, I need to see the pain, the fear, try to feel it for real, okay?"

"I'll try…" Rachel says uncertainly, willing to put a little more into it this time. She's not sure why her heart's beating a mile a minute all of a sudden, but she takes a deep breath, settling into the character, reaching down into her heart, and trying to convey a pain in there somewhere that she's always tried to shield from the world.

"Go on…" Michael says, leaning against the piano, "Action or what have you."

They don't start from the very beginning of the scene, but they've been working all day, so it wasn't that hard for them to get into their characters.

Rachel takes another deep breath, closing her eyes tightly, drawing the character from inside, and once she opens her eyes, she's not Rachel anymore, "I've tried hitting myself- to find out how it feels, really, inside." She says as Wendla, picking up the conductor stick on the floor and handing it to Gavin, "With this switch for example? It's tough and thin."

"It'd draw blood." Gavin says, looking at the stick from his place a few steps away.

Rachel looks down at the conductor's stick, envisioning every ounce of pain she's ever felt in her life into that one stick, "You mean, if you beat me with it…?"

"Beat you?" Gavin says, exaggerating the line by a few scales.

"Me." Rachel looks up at Gavin, with a look of complete longing: he looks like Quinn, but not Quinn, and she looks at him- _Me, she thinks._

"Wendla, what are you thinking?" Gavin says, slightly out of character, a look of mild concern washing over him.

"Nothing." Rachel shakes it off, internally, to stop the emotions of reality and fiction from blending together, and externally, for the show, her character. It's almost as if she goes on autopilot for the rest of the scene as she tries to sort herself out, but then, she starts too feel and then out loud, "But I've never been beaten- my entire life. I've never…. felt…."

"What?"

"Anything." She doesn't understand what's happening to her. Why this sudden wave of emotion is suddenly passing over her, or why it hurts, or where it's coming from- but it's there, and she's never felt so suffocated in her life. "Please Melchior." And she turns around, offering him her backside. Gavin hits her lightly, and then she's angry, "I don't feel it." And then she loses herself again, but she's brought back when Gavin grabs her arm, just like Michael showed them a few minutes ago.

"I'll teach you to say please." Gavin says, and she's never really thought Gavin was that good of an actor, but in that one line, she's never heard him sound so… evil. He strikes her, not really of course. "How's that then?" He strikes her again.

"Nothing." Rachel cries, and she doesn't know when she started crying. She cries on command, not for anything else. He hits her again, "And that?" Gavin asks, the strain in his voice sounding almost as if he was really hitting her. "Nothing." She says again.

"You bitch, I'll beat the hell out of you." Gavin snarls his line, and just like Michael showed them, he nudged Rachel, rather than pushed her, and she reacted accordingly- making the violent choreography seem real, however synchronized it may have been. And when Rachel's Wendla is on the ground, a rush of emotion, too real, too vicious, crawls up her throat, and she sobs, not for the scene, but for herself. She curls up in the fetal position, still sobbing-

The scene carries it's course for a couple more minutes, with Rachel crying on the floor, and Gavin's Melchior reacting to the image.

But when Michael and everyone on stage literally give her a standing ovation, she's brought back to reality. She gets up slowly, quickly composing herself, and wiping her tears away before giving them a well-rehearsed Rachel Berry smile. "Good?"

Michael has tears in his eyes when he approaches her, shaking his head, and giving her a hug, "Perfect." He pulls away to look at her once more, and she laughs when she sees the look in his face, "Just… wow. Perfect."

Rachel excuses herself to the restroom after a few of her casemates came up to compliment her performance. Once inside, she takes a few deep breathes, an uncomfortable pain in her chest, "What the hell is wrong with me?" She looks at herself in the mirror, she almost gasps at the red-rimmed eyes and puffy complexion. She starts hyperventilating again, and she has to sit down to regulate her breathing. "Calm down, Rachel." She tells herself.

And just like that, she turns it off. She washes her face, and goes back out to the stage with a renewed sense of control over her emotions.

The rehearsal goes on from morning till night, leaking all the way into the next morning, and by the time Rachel gets home, she's exhausted, and ecstatic- her little episode buried deep back inside- but mostly tired. She sees a few missed calls from Quinn, smiling faintly- she loved that they bombarded each other with phone calls, texts, and emails. It kept them close. Sometimes she thought it kept them closer than it would if Quinn didn't have to leave so often, almost as if the distance had become a friend rather than a mortal enemy. It was good, she thought. She preferred this feeling than anything worse.

Rachel sheds her clothes, settling to sleep in an oversized hoody, too worn out to lift her feet into a pair of pajama pants, and too emotionally drained to think of an alternative. She tucks herself in bed, reaching for the phone, and dialing the familiar number, she says "Hi."

"Babe, where the hell have you been?" Quinn asks irritably, "It's 3am."

"Sorry, Q." Rachel exhales, breathing into a sigh, "Rehearsal was brutal. They did a complete one eighty on the musical approach, so we had to go through the entire script. I'm wiped."

"Aww, baby." Quinn sympathizes, "Want to tell me about it?"

"Well, I have to admit, though biased I may be, but it's_ spectacular_." Rachel smiles, "I mean, it's like they transformed the entire show into one moment of emotional musical intensity."

"In what way?" Quinn asked, more interested in the way Rachel's passion spoke with her body, her hands, her everything, and how she could convey all that through a phone call. It was amazing, and she missed it. She missed her, so she asked questions to hear more answers, and more of her voice.

"Well, as you know, or should know if you've been listening to me, the show is set in 1890's Germany…" Rachel explains, sitting up in bed, "Then, all of a sudden, we yank out these microphones, and it's like a rock concert!"

"I can give you a few pointers there." Quinn laughs, "being a rock star myself, that is."

"Yeah, I'd like that." Rachel laughs.

"So, what else?" Quinn smiles, her eyes lighting up at the sound of her laugh.

"Well, that's basically it in a nutshell." She scrunches her face as she ponders her answer, "I'm too tired to give you a detailed explanation." Rachel says through a yawn.

"This is you tired?" Quinn chuckles.

Rachel rolls her eyes, "I just wanted to hear your voice before I passed out into oblivion."

Quinn laughs, "Call me when you wake up, baby. Get some sleep."

"Kay." Rachel says tiredly, "Love you."

"Love you too, Rach."

As soon as Rachel hangs up, she drifts off to sleep. Her body relaxes into the sheets, her mind empty, lulling her into her subconscious.

_She's aware that she's dreaming. She's had the same dream for weeks. But this one felt different. She's still at the point where she knows what this is. There's a stage, her stage, and on that stage, the boy frozen in the scene. She walks there, because she's supposed to walk there. And when she's standing in front of the boy- he looks like Gavin, now. And when he starts to look even more like him, he starts moving again, he has her by the arm, and he strikes the back of her thighs with a stick. This was how the scene went. This was acting. Gavin was acting. She faintly hears herself speak the dialogue, and Gavin doing the same. But all she feels is pain. She_ feels_ it._ _It hurts, and the pain is so pure and raw, she can almost feel the tears leaking out of her body-_

"_No, no… sto-stop it." The pain is still coming. But Gavin is not there anymore._

"_Please…" Another strike. But there's no one there._

"_Don't." And then she sees faces. For the first time, she sees them. So many faces, in a montage, lockers, choir rooms, stages, pianos…._

Rachel jolts awake; breathing heavily- she looks over at the clock by her bed, and sees that it's only 6am. She brushes a hand through her hair, trying to recall the dream she just had, but it's faint, and she tries to grasp it before it drifts away like dreams always do, but it's gone. Some part of her seems relieved, though she doesn't know why. And the other part, well, it just feels scared- whether from uncertainty or an unconscious awareness of what the dream actually was she's not sure. But she doesn't want to think anymore, about it or anything else for that matter, so she convinced herself that she couldn't go back to sleep, and then she decides to go out for a run.


	2. Chapter 2

October 2016

"Blonde version of the White Stripes?" Rachel scoffs, glaring at the magazine in her hand while trying to balance her phone on her shoulder, "I mean, with all due respect to both of you, you and Sam sound nothing like them!"

"It's a compliment, Rach. Calm down." Quinn laughs, drinking her cup of coffee, which never ceases to bring a smile on her face- considering who got her into the habit in the first place, and watching as the trees pass by in a blur outside the window of her tour bus, "So, aside from your disapproval of that article, how've you been?"

"Well, I'm outraged that you guys are adding a bajillion more dates to your tour while simultaneously being proud of your success, but other than that, it's been okay." Rachel says, flipping the magazine closed, and Quinn thinks she heard her blow a raspberry at it.

"How was your last Maria?" She asks with a laugh.

"As heartbreaking and divine as always, but more so, because the love of my life was not there, so while completely devastated, I channeled the despair into my performance and powered through." Rachel says dramatically.

"Drama queen." She mutters, "I bet you cried afterwards, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't." Rachel says a little too quickly.

"Kurt sent me pictures." Quinn smirks knowingly.

"Whatever, the spot light was- yeah, I cried. It was the theater, I am allowed." They both laugh.

"So, how was the workshop you were telling me about?" Quinn asks after a minute of silence, with Rachel packing up her rehearsal bag, and Quinn rewriting a couple of lyrics on a piece of paper. "Did you guys set up for the theater yet?"

"Oh, yeah." Rachel sighs, "Well, there's been a minor inconvenience here and there, but it was okay."

"What do you mean?" Quinn asks, confused.

"Um, well, let's see, the male lead totally botched on us, and the new one is kind of maybe… Jesse St. James." Rachel says in a somewhat flustered voice.

"The clash of the divas." Quinn jokes, "Why is that an inconvenience?"

"Because— Quinn, I need you to be understanding, I am an actress, and as such, there are certain things expected-"

"Jesus, Rachel, spit it out." Quinn says, suppressing a laugh.

"There is a sex scene." Rachel says bluntly, but then she starts rambling because she can't help herself, too scared to give Quinn a chance to react. "It's been added to the script- I mean they keep polishing it up, it started as just heavy kissing and then it escalated to something more, and well, now it's just, you know, a sex scene."

"Okay." Quinn drawls, "Well, that's not so bad, it's a musical, how explicit can it be?"

"Kind of explicit." Rachel comments.

"What do you mean?" Quinn asks warily.

"Well, again, don't get mad, you have a very vicious jealous streak, which thank god I'm not a Hollywood actress, because with the amount of sexual content- I mean, you would have gone to jail for mass homicide."

"Seriously, just get on with it." Quinn sighs with a smile.

"You see, I have to kind of- how do I put this…" She pauses, "Basically, there will be some breast fondling."

"I can deal with that…." Quinn says roughly, her jaws clenched.

"It's all a bit risqué for Broadway, but that's what I love about the show, so you know, it's not that big of a problem." Rachel says, and Quinn senses the onset of a never-ending rambling session, "I would have never agreed to do a topless scene. I mean, it goes against my no nudity rule. But then again, the direction is so beautiful, and the director is so supportive-"

"Rachel, how exactly does the scene go?" Quinn cuts her off, having stopped listening at the mention of the word topless.

"I'm not at liberty to say, there's a confidentiality agreement, and I have to respect-"

"Rachel." Quinn says pointedly.

"Fine." She sighs, "There's some groping, a bit of kissing, and like um, god, umm- well, it's a sex scene, so like sex stuff- simulated, of course." Rachel assures her. "Don't be mad."

Quinn groans, she doesn't want to take this away from Rachel, it's her dream to originate a role, and she's not denying that the idea of having someone else touch her like that doesn't make her want to hurt things, but she lets it go for now, because it's not her place, and she doesn't want to be _that _type of girlfriend, although she is surprised Rachel is actually considering this, "It's fine, Rach. It's just, are _you_ okay with doing this?"

"I admit I was skeptical at first, but after speaking with the writer, and reading the original story, it started to- I don't know, it just means a lot to me, and I'm hoping I can bring that understanding to the stage and hopefully make something beautiful out of it." Rachel says, sounding utterly passionate in what she was saying.

"Okay, but only if you're comfortable." Quinn says, brushing a hand in her hair.

"I am." Rachel says, not hiding the relief in her voice.

"Look, Rach, I have to go. We're here. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Quinn says hurriedly, "I love you."

"Love you too," Rachel replies, "Knock their socks off, Meg White!"

* * *

><p>Later that day, Johnny- who Rachel had developed a very unusual friendship with, in the sense that they were so unlike each other, had invited her to one of his shows at this local bar, along with some of the cast as well. She wasn't the type of girl to be found at a bar, she hated them really. She didn't drink aside from the occasional wine or champagne for special occasions, and she didn't like crowded places- but she accepted the invite, and that's how she found herself with a drink Blake had recommended and bought for her while watching Johnny perform on stage with nothing but a guitar and his voice. He had an amazing voice- rough around the edges, deep on one end, soft on the other. It perfectly complimented the general melancholic feel to his music. She was feeling weird all week. She hasn't been getting any sleep. She figured she'd indulge in alcohol and friends for one day, and maybe it would distract her enough to get her out of her funk.<p>

Three drinks later and she was literally floating- in her mind at least, in reality, she was stumbling over feet and people, being balanced on one side by Johnny, and the other by Lilli. "I think she's done for the night." Lilli laughed.

"I didn't peg you for a lightweight, Rach." Johnny chuckles when Rachel starts playing with the hem of his shirt.

"Have I ever told you how awesome you are?" Rachel slurs.

"Repeatedly." He says, leading her to the booth where their other friends sitting. He looks out to the makeshift dance floor for a familiar face, spotting him, he yells, "Hey, Kurt- your girl is out."

Kurt is too busy grinding himself into Blaine to hear his name being called.

"Geez, are any of you sober?" Johnny turns to look at the table, with everyone laughing and not paying him any attention. He sighs, taking in Rachel's sleepy form. "Come on, let's get you home-"

"No, no, no- I'm staying awake." Rachel drones, "Sleep is bad." She says quietly.

"I hate drunk people." He groans, "How about we get some coffee in you, sober you up?" He says, offering his hand.

"I love coffee." Rachel smiles dreamily, "Quinn hates coffee. But she likes my tongue. And my tongue likes coffee. So Quinn likes coffee."

Johnny can't help the light chuckle, "Up you go then," he lifts her off the chair, "I know a place…"

Johnny's apartment wasn't that far away, an approximately five minute walk on a normal day. But managing a drunken mess of a girl escalated it to about fifteen minutes, with Rachel repeatedly stopping whenever she saw flashy lights, which considering the city they were currently walking in, was basically every inch or so.

When they finally got to his apartment, Johnny gave Rachel a bottle of water, "Drink." He ordered. "You need your fluids. One cup of water for each cup of coffee… which you're going to need a lot of." He says with a smile, walking over to the small kitchen and preparing a full pot of coffee. No more than five minutes later, and he had two cups of coffee in his hand, handing one over to Rachel before sitting down.

Rachel took a sip, before looking up at him, "Thank you."

He smiles, grabbing the TV remote, "You're welcome…"

Once the caffeine sets in, or rather, when she decided to sober up- she has that kind of will power, or so she tells herself- she takes in his apartment. It very much embodied his personality- it was spacious, but the walls were lined with bookshelves, and piled to the brim, some even stacked onto the side, under a modest television, and on the coffee table. It reminded her of Quinn. She loved her books. There was an old record player on the side, and that's when she realized that that bookshelf was actually filled with records. There was a Kayak leaning on the one empty sliver of wall in the corner, skis, and an oversized parka. It was a comfortable atmosphere- very homey.

"Why do you have that?" Rachel asks him, motioning to the kayak with her head.

"There's this place over at Greenwich Village." Johnny answers, flipping through the channels, "They've got all these adventurous type stuff- I like going there. I figured buying my own equipment would save some money."

"Like what?" Rachel asks curiously, crossing her ankles and leaning against her knees.

"Skiing, kayaking, umm, archery…" Johnny counts, his head tilted as he tries to recall some more, "You know, that kind of stuff."

"Seems fun?" Rachel says unsurely.

He laughs loudly, "It's not everyone's thing, I guess. But it helps, you know, to let go and stuff."

Rachel seems confused by his answer, "Doesn't singing do that?"

"To some extent, I guess." He answers honestly, "But sometimes I need a break. I mean, it's different- with singing… it's cathartic. And the other stuff, it's just… it feels nice not to have to think or feel, you know, just do. Nothing beats a good burden free adrenaline rush."

"That sounds nice." Rachel sighs, still somewhat inebriated, "I think I'd like that."

"You could tag along." He offers, with a shrug and a kind smile, "I usually go on Mondays. They're always my day off when I'm doing shows, so it turned into sort of a thing." Johnny explains as he settles on the Discovery channel.

Rachel perks up, somewhat curious, and a little excited, "You don't mind?"

"Not when in good company." He winks playfully.

"Okay then, count me in." Rachel smiles, sinking into the couch more fully, "Hey, Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?" Rachel asks hesitantly.

"Sure."

"Why are all of your songs so sad?" She asks quietly.

He sighs, in a way that suggests that he's asked himself that question many times before, "I don't know."

"Did someone… I mean, are they about someone?" She asks hesitantly.

"Not really." Johnny sits up, laughs a little, and then says, "My mom used to always say I was born with a broken heart."

Rachel bites her lip, not wanting to say anything that might come off the wrong way, and settles for, "That's sad."

"It's sort of true." Johnny says honestly, "I've never had a reason to be unhappy, but I am. But I'm also not unhappy either. I'm just… I don't know. It's weird."

"So where do you write your songs from?" Rachel didn't know why she was asking all these questions, but there was something about the way Johnny carried himself that she thought she could feel in herself.

"I read a lot. It's sort of a religious experience for me, I get lost in the characters and stuff, and a part of me feels entitled to their thoughts, and I draw from that I guess." Johnny says, before refilling both their cups.

"I think you'd like Quinn." Rachel smiles, "You guys are a lot alike."

"I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult." Johnny laughs jokingly.

"It's the best compliment ever."

* * *

><p>Rachel meets up with Jesse the next day for lunch. They've just placed their drink orders when Jesse looks over at her, "Look, Rachel…" He sighs, "I know we patched things up along time ago, but if you're uncomfortable with the scene, you can talk to me. I think if we're just, you know, honest with each other, it'll make things a lot easier."<p>

Rachel smiles up at him, "I'm fine with it, _honestly."_

"For real?" He asks hopefully.

"For real for real." She assures him. "I am an actress, I'd do it even if I hate your guts- which I don't. We're friends now. I've already forgiven you, stop beating yourself up about it."

"It's just weird, given our history." Jesse laughs weakly, "All the things I did to you, the _thing_ I almost took from you…" He trails off sadly.

"Channel that into your character, and we're even, okay?" Rachel reaches for his hand, squeezing it gently, "The better my male lead, the better my chance at winning a Tony." She adds with a laugh.

Jesse returns the laugh with his own, "A Tony, huh?"

"Mhhhm." Rachel looks back at her menu, more relaxed now that Jesse was at ease. And just like that, they were okay.

* * *

><p>Rachel sat in the deep cushioned armchair Michael usually had on the stage whenever he was in the middle of a rewrite or waiting on yet another mind blowing epiphany. Jesse was leaning against one arm, both of them studying the way you could actually see the wheels in Michael's mind were turning. He was pacing the floor, a beautiful mosaic of trees and flat stones the color of brown leather, orange, yellow—"End of act one, let that be the end of the…um, foreplay." He gestures to them awkwardly, "Act two will start off with the heavy stuff." He takes a deep breath, "I'm not sure how I want to do this… I'm gay, I've never really had sex with a woman."<p>

"How about we just, you know, just wing it?" Jesse suggests. "We'll follow the dialogue with whatever feels natural…"

"Yeah, and you could adjust the scene accordingly." Rachel adds, giving Jesse a supportive bump in the shoulder.

"Okay." Michael lights up, digging into his pocket for something, "I do have a picture though… for you, Rachel. Something to build on."

Rachel takes the picture he offers, a slight gasp escaping her lips as she takes in the picture- it was an erotic photo of this gorgeous woman in a lace bridal gown with a sort of gothic feel to it, she was bending down, and lifting her dress over her thighs, "I don't-"

"No no no no." Michael shakes his head, laughing lightly, "Don't read too much into it, I just want you to put it in mind."

Jesse peers over her shoulder, "She's hot."

"She's beautiful." Rachel breathes out, suddenly overwhelmed.

"That's what I meant- not you, Jesse." He dismisses Jesse with a grimace as he lifts his hand for a high five. He puts a hand on Rachel's shoulder, peering over it, and pointing at the picture in her hand, his fingers outlining the woman's silhouette. "The style, seemingly pornographic, hits you with a passion rather than a vulgarity. That's what I want." He says, pulling back and walking towards the center of the stage, "This isn't a sex scene; bodies clumping together, or something to settle a romantic aspect to the show. It's love, just love. That's what you need to show me, and everybody else in this theater."

Rachel doesn't look up right away, taking a second to soak all of this in, and then with a nod, she smiles, "Okay."

"Jesse, you giant oaf. Don't ruin this." Michael warns, sensing Jesse's oncoming crude remark.

"I was just going to say-"

"Shush." Michael shoots him a glare, "I can read your mind… unsanitary place that it is." Jesse actually pouts when he's silenced for the second time in less than a minute. "Rachel, darling, I have no doubt that you can convey the emotion required for this, but please, I beg of you, teach this hooligan your ways."

"I am literally standing right here." Jesse states, crossing his arms against his chest.

"I can see that. Thank you Jesse." He enunciates as if speaking to a child, even adding a sweet smile at the end, "He has the voice and the look, but god almighty, I need you to hurt him- break him in some way. He's too much of a plastic doll."

"Honestly, why did you cast me?" Jesse asks, this time visibly offended.

"If I'm being completely _honest,_ we were desperate." Michael exhales, but quickly reassuring him, "Not that you're not talented. It's just that Rachel has upped the standard just a little, and- well, again, if I were being honest, if it were anyone but Rachel, you would have been splendid. I just need you two to be at the same level, all right?"

"Fine." Jesse huffs with another well established pout.

"Thank you, Michael." Rachel smiles shyly.

"No, problem." He winks, "Now lie down. Let's see how the hetros do it."

By November, both Rachel and Jesse had taken to spending every waking minute with each other, in an effort to establish a more comfortable relationship for their characters. They built off each other, with Jesse giving her a confidence in her body, and Rachel brushing some of that narcissism off his personality.

They were in the middle of going over the closing scene when Kurt interrupts them with a kiss on Rachel's temple, and a snarky comment to Jesse, "Rachel, darling, once you're done with this maple glazed hooligan, Blaine and I were thinking about going down to that new contemporary museum down by Bowery, would you like to join us?"

"Oooh, I read about that!" Rachel folds her script, lifting her head to give her full attention to Kurt, "It's not your typical painting gallery, they have these little activities that alter your perspective—and oh! Jesse that would be perfect for you!"

"No." Kurt shakes his head, "Egg nazi is not coming."

Jesse ignores him with a roll of his eyes, turning to Rachel, "I thought you said I was better."

Rachel pats his thigh, "I did. But a little perspective never hurt anyone."

"Never mind. I retract my invite." Kurt says, glaring at Jesse.

"Kurt, don't be like that." Rachel sighs, "Besides, I don't want to be a third wheel."

"Honey, if anything, Blaine is the third wheel." Kurt waves his hand, obviously annoyed, "That man, while devilishly handsome, is a bore. I mean, for a self obsessed modern day Gene Kelly, he has an under appreciation for art."

"Be that as it may-"

"Okay, fine, he can come." Kurt cuts her off with a groan, "I can exercise my name calling talents."

"Gee, thanks." Jesse says sarcastically.

"YAY!" Rachel jumps up, giving Kurt a kiss on the cheek, "I'm going to go get my stuff." Her phone vibrates in her pocket as she heads backstage. As she fishes it out of her pocket, she sees it's a text from Santana- she's always excited by the carbon copy texts she receives that keep her in the loop of Quinn's other life. But just as she reads the contents, a frown discolors her face, and all of a sudden, she's dialing Quinn's international phone number.

"Europe?" Rachel asks, completely flabbergasted.

"I know!" Quinn says disbelievingly. "I mean, for the European dates, we're still only an opening act, but still. It's big."

"Aww baby, I'm so proud of you!" Rachel squeals, "Sad that you're leaving me, but equally proud!"

"You could come with me, you know?" Quinn says hopefully, "It's just for a few months. You have no shows going on right now, it's perfect."

"Q, you know this workshop is important to me. And you _know _you won't be able to live with me knowing that I'll be a miserable grumpy old fart constantly complaining about missing the chance to open up my own show in a pool of my own regret stricken tears." Rachel says seriously, grabbing a towel and wiping the back of her neck. "Plus, your fans already hate me enough as is."

"Sometimes I miss your theatrics." Quinn sighs, "And not all of them are that bad, come on."

"I have bookmarked a few fan sites for you, they are relentless and downright cruel. They're bloodthirsty, Quinn, they'll have slit my throat, stolen my vocal chords, and bathed in my blood by New Years." Rachel says gravely.

Quinn laughs, "Stolen your vocal chords?"

"They may be evil, but they have good taste." Rachel says, her hands rubbing her throat.

"Anyway, babe, I'm going to be in New York for a few hours next week before leaving to Europe, please wear something skanky and wait for me in bed, yeah?" Quinn says, sounding more desperate than flirty.

"A few hours?" Rachel repeats sadly, "You're leaving me for six months and all I get are a few hours? Santana is a sadist. Why did you let her be your tour manager?"

"She's one of your best friends, she's not doing this to you; she's doing this for us." Quinn tells her, clearly amused by Rachel's accusations, but trying to reassure her all the same.

"I highly doubt that." Rachel scoffs.

"Love you, baby." She coos.

"Yeah right." Rachel says, the eye roll somehow audible. "See you next week," she adds sweetly, "_for a few hours."_

* * *

><p>Rachel is fluttering around her apartment, playing with some stuff in the kitchen, and for a second, she considers trying to cook something, but Quinn has repeatedly told her she's not allowed to do that without supervision, but then again, she wasn't here and she wasn't going to starve. She eyes the kitchen again, but a sound in the living room catches her attention. She walks over, sees the door to the apartment open, and is about to scream when she sees a head of messy blonde hair, looking completely ravenous, stalking towards her, "Quinn, you're-"<p>

Quinn is on her in an instant, latching her lips to the first patch of skin she could find, and gradually finding her way to Rachel's lips, her hands caught in a whirlwind- touching every part of Rachel's body she could, almost as if time itself was slipping between her fingers, and she only had a few seconds to imprint the memory of her body before it left her forever. She hears Rachel gasp, feeling the brunette's ribs poke her as if they were telling her she was going to die if she didn't get a breath in. Quinn lowers her head, her tongue slipping to lick a trail across Rachel's jaw, her lips focusing on that spot behind her ear, loving the way Rachel's moans sounded from this angle.

"Quinn, baby, breathe." Rachel says in a throaty voice, a gasp escaping her lips when Quinn bites down too harshly, but quickly turning into a moan as she feels her tongue brush across it soothingly.

"No," Quinn tells her, looking at her for a few seconds, before she pushes her against the wall, holding her in place with her hips, and continuing her attack on her lips, Quinn's voice is muffled against skin when she says, "I need you more."

"Tell me we'll never get used to it." Quinn breathes out, her lips brushing over Rachel's shoulder. "Me leaving."

Rachel turns her head, lips meeting with lips, hands to cheek, and kisses her deeply. "We won't."


	3. Chapter 3

December 2016

"Kurt, my stomach isn't even going to show!" Rachel whines, "I don't need _abs_. It's fine the way it is."

"Darling, if this show is going where I think it's going, you're going to get major publicity, you don't want to break into the business with baby fat." Kurt tells her with a disgusted expression.

"I don't have baby fat." She says, sticking her tongue at him. "And I'm already in the business."

"What if they have you do a photo shoot in lingerie, hmm? What then?" Kurt asks, his hands flying from his hips to the air above him in feigned despair.

"You've seen me in a bathing suit, I look fine." Rachel rolls her eyes, "Noah, tell him I look fine."

"She looks hot, lady-pants. Leave her alone." Noah says, wrapping his arm Rachel's shoulder, "Don't listen to him, he's just jealous you're a girl and he's not."

"I resent that." Kurt glares at him. "That's all kinds of offensive, not all gay guys want to be girls."

"Says the guy wearing women's underpants." Noah says under his breath.

"I am not!" Kurt gasps, "You know what, whatever. Rachel, if you don't come with me right now, I will- so help me god, I'll…"

"You've got nothing on her, Hummel." Noah laughs, lifting his feet on the table.

"Fine, Rachel, as a friend, I am asking you for some emotional support as it is I who feels an incoming flame of insecurity as the dawn of my stage debut befalls me, so please, come to the gym with me before I faint." Kurt begs, his hands under his chin.

"Okay, I was just teasing you anyway." Rachel perks up, "I just- Q's going to call in a few minutes."

"Whipped." Noah smirks, nudging her legs with his own.

Rachel elbows his side, "I recall a certain Jewish boy being whipped not too long ago."

"Isn't it weird that Puck got into both of your pants?" Kurt asks Rachel, his face contorted in mild disgust.

"Jealous?" Noah asks with a raise of his brow.

Rachel rolls her eyes, "We were also both with Finn. I don't know- it was like a scavenger hunt, find the trail we left in boys."

"I'm going to write that down." Noah says seriously, "It would make a great lyric – I should call Sam." He adds, standing up, "Or like, an inspiration for one anyway."

"I want artistic license on it." Rachel says, mirroring his standing position, "Or put my name in there somewhere. I'll settle for a reference." And she sees Noah open his mouth but she cuts him off, "Shorty is not an option."

It was their thing, her and Noah, whenever Quinn and Sam were gone, they would bond over their badly written lyrics to ease the pain of having Noah's best friend, and Rachel's girlfriend gone for weeks, sometimes even months at a time. It was something.

* * *

><p><span>January 2017<span>

"That one lady was crying, I swear!" Kurt squeals, squeezing Rachel's shoulder from behind. "Rach, you were incredible."

"You were too!" Rachel tells him happily, "I can't believe this is happening."

"Well, my performance being incredible is a given- I mean, come on… look at me." Kurt says, gesturing to his body, "But seriously, the entire cast thought your performance was- I don't even know, just wow. I've never seen you like that. It was better than the Atlantic run!"

"Thank you." Rachel says humbly, but rather dismissively, "I really do hope it gets picked up on Broadway. The anticipation is killing me!" She adds, "Anyway, the cast wants to go and celebrate, you coming?"

"Of course, I just have to call Blaine." Kurt exclaims, "And you, call Quinn!" He squeals, "Ahh, who would have thought we'd ever come this far? Our own show." He adds dreamily.

"You didn't actually write Spring Awakening, Kurt." Rachel tells him sarcastically.

"I know that, smart ass." Kurt slaps her shoulder playfully, "I mean- you know what I mean!"

"Yeah." She laughs, "I'm really glad you're here with me."

"Me too, tinker bell." He tells her warmly, his hands pulling her into a tight hug.

Quinn doesn't answer her phone, and Rachel's only disappointed for a few seconds before Kurt pulls her out of her paranoid thoughts and shoves a phone in her hands; Burt was on the line, congratulating her of course. Which reminded her to call her dads, all the while Kurt dragging her out the apartment and into a cab, and by the time the phone call was over, she was being pulled in a million hugs from each and every one of her cast mates once they've reached their destination.

Quinn returns Rachel's twenty missed calls the next morning, she was too exhausted to answer any of them last night, and she feels only slightly guilty, because her lack of enthusiasm would have deterred from whatever was important enough for Rachel to make that many calls anyway—

"Hmmm." Rachel answers roughly, apparently sleeping.

"Hi baby, did I wake you?" Quinn smiles, imagining the way Rachel's eyes would get extra puffy whenever she had a big show, and how adorable she would have looked, and in doing so, it only makes that ache in her chest hurt even more.

"Mmmmhhhm but s'okay." She slurs, stretching her limbs audibly.

"You almost broke my phone yesterday." Quinn laughs, "What's up?"

"Serves you right, ignoring me like that." Rachel says with a pout.

"I'm sorry, but I had a very long day- what was it?" Quinn chuckles, rubbing at her cheek absentmindedly.

"Nothing really." Rachel yawns, this time stretching her limbs across Quinn's side of the bed, her fingers brushing over her pillow lightly, "Just that the show last night got a few hard core producers to consider it for Broadway."

"O-oh my god, Rach, that's amazing." Quinn says excitedly, jumping from her seat into the air, "I'm so proud of you, god, I wish I could have been there."

"Yeah, me too." Rachel says, clearing her throat, "Everyone was amazing…. Kurt, Jesse, and god, this is a really good cast, and this is me talking!"

"I've never heard you being so humble…" Quinn jokes, "Speaking of, did Jesse behave himself?" She added hesitantly, not wanting to call him any names lest she come off as the jealous type any more than she already does. While Rachel knows her better than to interpret her words like that, she is also too naïve to see the absolute truth in them.

"Of course, he is nothing but professional." Rachel says seriously, "I wish you guys would give him a second chance. He's not that bad. I mean, Kurt can't go five minutes without making a comment about scrambled eggs and some clever twist with his name about how much of a jerk he is… but, he really is a nice guy."

"You're just too forgiving for your own good." Quinn scoffs.

"I wouldn't have you if I wasn't." Rachel says honestly, quickly changing the subject, and asking, "Where are you now?"

"Ireland." Quinn answers, laughing a little, "I can't believe I'm actually saying that."

"I can." Rachel says with a smile in her voice, "I'm so proud of you, Q."

"I couldn't have done it without you, you know?"

"I doubt that." Rachel chuckles.

"I don't."

Rachel doesn't answer right away, and after few seconds of silence, she says, "Look, baby, I have an early rehearsal tomorrow. I have to get some sleep. Call me later?"

"Yeah, sure." Quinn says a little disappointed, "Love you."

"Love you too." Rachel says, stifling a yawn.

* * *

><p><span>February 2017<span>

"Quinnie!" Rachel greets into her phone.

"Gaaaah." Quinn recoils, sticking her tongue out, "Don't call me that."

"I think it's adorable." Rachel dismisses, "Anyway, while stalking your number one fan's various websites-"

"What- why would you do that?" Quinn says, her voice caught between a laugh and genuine curiosity.

"Because it's fun." Rachel shrugs, her tone clearly stating the obvious.

"But you have me right here." Quinn tells her, not understanding what Rachel was going for.

"I like seeing how people fawn over you." Rachel quips, "It helps that I have you and can silently rub it in their face whenever they bash one of the photos I'm in- I mean, geez, you'd think they'd get over that already…"

"Baby…" Quinn chuckles, that ever-present sensation over missing her crazy girlfriend building a fire around her heart.

"Why didn't you tell me that you cut your hair?" Rachel says, somewhat angrily, "I mean, if it wasn't so hot, I would have probably given you the silent treatment."

Quinn laughs loudly, "I just cut it yesterday, how did that even- how did you find out?"

"There's a video of your show last night." Rachel answers distractedly as she checks her laptop for the video in question, "Quinniuspatronus91 posted it as soon as she got home, and your hair is like, is it Mohawk-ey? Because Noah's looks hideous, but yours, I don't know- it gets me hot just thinking about it."

"God, I missed you." Quinn sighs, "And no, it's not a Mohawk, babe, I just cut the sides a little shorter."

"It should stay like that forever…" Rachel says dreamily.

"Whatever you want, baby." Quinn smiles, her heart swelling up at the way her voice trails off, "How's the show?"

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh- Quinn, I forgot to tell you." Rachel says, her voice taking on a jittery cadence, "We've got a date."

"A date?" Quinn asks confused.

"Broadway, Quinn, we're heading to the Great White Way! Can you believe it?" Rachel says, barely containing her excitement.

"That's fantastic!" Quinn almost yells, "How- I mean, when? Tell me everything."

Rachel goes on to tell her about the run they had Off Broadway, and how the buzz slowly started to build up until it caught the attention of a few producers, who attended the other day- and later were blown away. They talk for hours, Quinn congratulating her, and Rachel squealing every once in a while- till they drift off to talking about cats, coffee beans, the unrest in the middle east, the power of paper towels, before Quinn asks Rachel to sing her something to fall asleep to.

* * *

><p><span>March 2017<span>

"Opening night is on the day after you get back!" Rachel says happily, "I didn't even have to bribe anyone for that to happen. Pure coincidence!"

"I highly doubt that." Quinn says lowly.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." Rachel dismisses quickly, "I have to find a dress, which Kurt offered to take the reigns on, because, and I quote _the dress you're going to pick out will have the producers arrested."_

"What does that mean?" Quinn laughs.

"That I dress like a twelve year old and given the matures themes in the show…. Well, you know." Rachel says rather distractedly.

Quinn laughs, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, the cast and I are going out to celebrate." Rachel tells her, "I'm just looking for that necklace you gave me last Hanukah… have you seen it by any chance?"

"Rach, I'm half way around the world." Quinn says, letting it suffice as an answer.

"Don't remind me." Rachel rolls her eyes, "Where did I put that thing?" She mumbles to herself.

"When was the last time you saw it?" Quinn says, trying to help.

"Um, I don't know-" She trails off, "Or maybe… that day I dropped you off at the airport."

"Hmm, what did we do that night, do you remember?" Quinn smirks at the memory, and the image, and everything in between.

"Oh." Rachel blushes, "You yanked it off- that coat, where's your coat?"

"In the closest, maybe?" Quinn exhales, that ache in her chest building more and more each day.

"I FOUND IT!"

* * *

><p><span>April 2017<span>

"Hey." Rachel croaks into the speaker.

"Hi!" Quinn chirps, grimacing a little after noticing her voice, "Baby, you don't sound so good."

"I'm just tired." Rachel assures her, clearing her throat.

"Are you sure?" Quinn says a little worried.

"Yeah." Rachel says, smiling slightly. She always loved the way Quinn's voice went a little soft like that.

"Why don't you go to the doctor just in case?" Quinn tells her, "For me, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel coughs, "But I'm fine, I'm just tired." She adds in a hoarse whisper.

"That's what you said that one time you had the stomach flu." Quinn says. "Just please, take care of yourself- if I come back and find you dead, so help me god-"

"Don't worry, babe." Rachel says, her voice breaking at the end, "I'll haunt you everyday." She adds in a weak laugh.

"Rach…" Quinn says worriedly, "You_ really_ don't sound good."

"Gee, thanks." Rachel scoffs, "That's an awesome thing to tell someone who's self worth relies on that voice."

"You know what," Quinn says, "I'm calling Kurt…. Or Puck. Yeah, Puck. He'll drag you out of bed and into a doctor's office."

"Stop exaggerating. I thought I was the drama queen in this relationship." Rachel says, rolling over onto her belly, "I just need to rest my voice for a couple days."

"Fine." Quinn huffs, "But if after a couple of days, you still sound the same, I'm sending an army."

"I can't wait!" Rachel laughs.

A couple of days later, Rachel wraps herself in two layers of heavy cotton and heads out for a walk in the city, her headset tucked between her hat and red rimmed ear. Her flu had passed thankfully, but she still felt a chill every time she so much as flexed her fingers.

"They don't sell an NME here, or anywhere. I checked every single stand, store, and coffee shop!" Rachel says in a huff.

"I'll mail it to you." Quinn says with a laugh, "Just calm down."

"I am calm." Rachel says absentmindedly. "I Just hate this store. Rajeesh is staring again."

Quinn laughs out loud, "You sound better." She says, a smile in her voice.

"I told you I was just tired."

"Yeah…"

Later that day, Quinn decides to give Rachel a call before she boards her plane. She hadn't told Rachel about her early flight, so she wanted to make sure she heard her voice before being awol for the next ten hours.

"Kurt?" Quinn asks, mildly confused, "I thought I called Rachel."

"This is Rachel's phone, she forgot it at mine." He tells her.

"Oh." Quinn says dejectedly, "Well, tell her I called."

"Will do, super star." Kurt says enthusiastically. "You two should be the poster kids for long distance relationships- you talk to each other more than I do with Blaine, and I live with the guy."

Quinn laughs, and deciding to have a little fun, she says, "It's because she does this thing with her tongue-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Kurt says, feigning a gagging sound, "When will you be gracing the big apple with your apples?"

"Ew." Quinn snaps, "I'll be there tomorrow morning- don't tell Rachel though, it's a surprise."

"As long as you promise not to tell me about whatever Rachel's tongue can do." Kurt tells her.

"Your loss." Quinn shrugs, "Deal."

Spring Awakening's opening night was having its toll on Kurt's nerves. He would barge into Rachel and Quinn's apartment in a flurry; his eyes sometimes brimmed with tears, and his hands shaking uncontrollably. Rachel had gotten used to it, falling into a routine of sorts: He would usually come by at around 6 pm, right after rehearsal, but late enough to have had been alone on the walk home for the anxiety to get the better of him. Rachel would grab his hands, always, rubbing them comfortingly- in an effort to get him to stop shaking, bring him back to reality, and assure him that he was too good, too talented, too amazing to feel this inadequate, and that Rachel Berry didn't befriend talentless people, so he shouldn't give people a chance to question that.

And after a stern talking to, they'd spend the rest of the hour hugging, sometimes continuing that embrace on the couch, and settling in for an impromptu movie night, or reality show marathon of some sort- Kurt would always take advantage of Rachel's sympathy and ask to watch Project Runway reruns, and her being Rachel, she always obliged.

By the time eight rolls around, Kurt excuses himself, but not before thanking and placing a kiss on a drowsy Rachel's forehead, "See you tomorrow, darling." Kurt says, picking up his bag by the couch, "I honestly don't know what I would have done without you." He adds appreciatively.

"You would have knocked it out of the park." Rachel dismisses, waving her hands at him, "You're amazing."

"How I ever thought you were an awful person is beyond me." He breathes out without thought, sounding slightly angry with himself, his tone colored with an air of bewilderment. "I'm really sorry for that." He adds, his eyes locking sadly with hers.

Rachel is taken aback for a second, but she quickly shakes her head, giving him a small smile, "I was a selfish solo hungry relentless diva with an obnoxious voice, you were not to blame." She laughs, her eyes not quite complying with the gesture.

Kurt laughs, turning around to walk to the door, "True, true." His tone is playful, and when she's out of his sight, her smile falters for a second, "It's a good thing you got the lead, I don't even want to think what you would have done if someone else had got it."

Rachel opens her mouth to say something, but she quickly closes it, and settles with a, "Yeah, me neither." She laughs hollowly.

When Rachel hears Kurt close the door, she sinks down into the couch, hugging her pillow to her chest as she flips through the channels, more out of habit than out of interest. She hears the door open a few minutes later, jumping slightly at the creak in the floorboards. She stands up, peeking out the living room, "Kurt, is that you? Did you forget-"

Quinn is standing by the door, one bag slung over her back, and a suitcase on the floor. She exhales, says nothing, and throws her bag on the floor and stalks towards a shocked Rachel, with a familiar hungry glint in her eyes.

"Quinn." Rachel breathes out, confused, surprised but thrilled at the same time, "What are you- mmmmmm."

Quinn cuts her off with a kiss, taking her jacket off in one swift motion, her hands flying in a frenzy between Rachel's hair, torso, and neck before lifting her shirt up slightly, her fingers inching further up her abdomen until they her hands were cupping Rachel's breasts, the action eliciting moans from both girls. They stand their kissing, silently, passionately, and deeply for a while until breathing becomes a necessity. Quinn's lips stop their attack on Rachel's skin, settling against her clavicle, mouth open, just breathing her in. "Hi."

"Hey." Rachel laughs, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers, "Your hair got longer."

Quinn can't help but laugh at the sound of her voice, pulling away, and cupping Rachel's face in her hands, "I've missed you…" She says, brushing her lips against hers with eyes closed painfully, "so fucking much."

"Let's go to bed." Rachel says in a whisper, taking Quinn's hand in hers, and walking her over to the bedroom. Rachel walks over to turn off the light, Quinn following suit, a smirk on her face as she places a hand on the wall beside Rachel's head, pushing her against it with her hips. Rachel's gasp turns into a soft moan when she feels Quinn's lips on her neck. Rachel turns around, toying with the necklace around Quinn's neck, as Quinn's lips nuzzle against her own. Rachel walks toward the bed, slowly, gracefully, as to not disturb Quinn's wandering lips, and when she feels resistance behind Quinn's knees, Rachel pushes her on to the bed, her hands bracing themselves as she follows Quinn to the head of the bed, straddling her before losing herself in another intoxicated kiss.

"Rach, baby, slow down…" Quinn whimpers, her hands struggling to extract themselves from Rachel's grip above her head. She manages to get control of her hands, distracting Rachel by biting her neck a little too harshly, and placing her hands around Rachel's waist in an effort to steady her movements. "Baby, slow down." She repeats, swallowing a groan.

Quinn watches the way Rachel seemingly ignores her request, even after her fingers dig into her hips, and instead, adjusting to her now constricted position- her body squirming and grinding down on Quinn's hips in a delectable way, creating a friction that derails Quinn's train of thought and diminishes whatever willpower she thought she had. She now has no idea why she even wanted Rachel to slow down in the first place, so with a low growl, she grips Rachel's hips aggressively, flipping her over in one swift motion, loving the way Rachel's face breaks into a grin. She watches as Rachel's hands fly above her head, and leaning down, Quinn's mouth finds the hem of her shirt, pushing gently to reveal a sliver of skin, "Babe, your body…" Quinn breathes out suddenly, her fingers fluttering across Rachel's abdomen.

"Kurt-mmmm, Kurt and I have been- oh god, _working _**out**_."_ Rachel manages as Quinn's tongue dips into her belly button.

"God, you're beautiful." Quinn exhales, looking up at Rachel through her lashes before disappearing between her legs.

"Tell me we won't get used to it."

"Baby.."

"Tell me."

"We won't."

When Quinn falls asleep, Rachel slips out of bed, and steps out of the room. She puts on a pair of raggedy boots, and heads out of the apartment, making her way towards the roof. Her biological clock doesn't work nearly as good as Quinn's does, so she doesn't know what time it is, but when she opens the door to the roof, she see's a faint reddish gleam in the distance, which means the sun would be coming up soon. Rachel feels a shiver course through her body, not realizing how cold it would be, or just not caring enough, she didn't bring a jacket. Her thoughts stray to nothing in particular, and she finds herself just sitting there, breathing in and out, and watching as the sun paints the sky with its colors. She sits there until the sun gets too bright, and her eyes too weary, then she stands up and heads back to the apartment, and slips back into bed stealthily, not wanting to disturb Quinn in the slightest.

Rachel wakes up several hours later to the smell of coffee. Her eyes gather the courage to open up, and she squints just a little before opening them up, blinking a few times to remove the blurriness, "Hey."

"Good morning, sunshine," Quinn says with a warm smile. "I made coffee," and Rachel continues to just look at her, "and pancakes." She adds with a laugh. Rachel continues to stare, giving in eventually, adjusting her body to a seating position, and taking the coffee cup from Quinn, warming her hands before taking a sip.

"You weren't in bed when I woke up earlier." Quinn says conversationally, the statement sounding more like a question.

"I couldn't sleep." Rachel shrugs, taking another sip.

"Where'd you go?" Quinn asks.

"Oh, just a walk." Rachel lies, and she doesn't know why she doesn't tell her the truth.

Quinn doesn't know why this suddenly feels awkward. She looks over at Rachel who seems to be staring at the coffee cup in her hands like it holds the mysteries of the universe.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asks softly, feeling worried all of a sudden.

"Yeah, why?" Rachel asks, looking up at her, and that's when Quinn notices the bags under her eyes, and how utterly exhausted she looks.

"I don't know. You seem quiet." Quinn shrugs, "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"I just woke up in front of you." Rachel laughs lightly, "I'm fine." She adds, taking another sip. "I'm going to go brush my teeth."

Rachel had to be at the theater early, so Quinn is left getting ready by herself. Sam and Santana are going together, while she and Puck decided to catch the same cab- seeing as that he lives right next-door.

It's pretty crowded at the theater, photographers and news vans lingering by the sidewalk, and the small red carpet they'd had set up. Quinn thought she saw a few familiar faces in the crowd, Broadway veterans, writers, producers, and a few of Rachel's old cast mates from West Side Story… she smiled to herself, thinking how proud Rachel would be of her for knowing all these people. She spots Sam and Santana a few feet away, and makes her way towards them. She kisses Santana on the cheek and gives her a hug, and greets Sam the same way. They go inside after a few photos, interviews, and several hellos later.

Once curtain goes down, everyone is on their feet. The cast comes back out for the encore, Sam puts both pinkies in his mouth and lets out the loudest whistle Quinn has ever heard, Puck is in proud tears, and she thinks she sees Santana wiping her eyes with her sleeves, but then, Rachel comes out for her bow, and she forgets everything. She looks so beautiful, happy, and so unlike the character she just played, that it made Quinn's heart swell to three times its size in both pride and admiration. No one ever denied Rachel's acting abilities, but there was something so powerful about the way she presented herself tonight- whether it was the mature themes the show offered her, or the passion it demanded and forced out of her, she doesn't know, but what she knew, what she was sure of, was that her girl knocked it out of the fucking park, and everyone in this room felt exactly the same way.

There's an after party at a nearby hotel- everyone was heading there afterwards, but Quinn, Santana, Sam, and Puck insisted on going backstage and congratulating Rachel and Kurt privately before heading over.

"Rachel?" Quinn calls out, knocking on her dressing room door, "Babe, open up!"

"Q!" Rachel opens the door, still in costume, with Kurt right behind her, and jumps into Quinn's arms, her legs wrapping around her waist as Quinn lifts her off the floor.

"Rach, baby, you were- I don't even know…" Quinn shakes her head, "You were brilliant." She kisses her on the lips, as deeply as was appropriate in the presence of others.

"Move over, Barbie." Santana says, shoving Quinn out of the way, who then walks over to give Kurt a hug, "Your boobs, Berry." Santana smirks, giving her a hug, "Way to go…"

"Thanks, Santana." Rachel says unsurely, returning the hug.

"Considering I was the only one in this room who hadn't seen your berries, I would say it was about time… and what an entrance." Santana taunts, pulling back- "You were pretty awesome too, lady lips." She says, clapping Kurt on the back before giving him a small hug.

"Aw, I think that's the nicest thing that ever came out of your lips." Kurt remarks, "Are you drunk?"

"Yes, very much." Santana says with a grin.

Noah grabs Rachel and twirls her in the in the air, "You were fucking incredible, Rach. Like, I mean, I don't think I've ever seen you like that…"

Sam shoves Puck off her and gives her a hug, "You outdid yourself, Rachel."

Kurt looks over at Rachel with watery eyes, "He's right, you know?"

Quinn moves over to stand beside Rachel and slips her hand around her waist, placing a kiss on her cheek, "I mean, I almost wanted to punch Jesse in the face when he started taking off your clothes, but-" Rachel nudges her side with her elbow at the comment, but she continues, "But you both were amazing."

"Thank you," Rachel says humbly, "All of you, you know, for coming and everything."

"We wouldn't have missed it for the world." Puck says with a smile.

"Yeah." Sam agrees, "Did you guys hear that audience? They were so fucking loud!"

Kurt grins at that, "We were all screaming backstage," he says, eyeing Rachel, "It was so exciting!" Rachel returns the smiles, and they all spend a few minutes talking about the show, their performance, and their plans for after the show. They all agree to meet at the hotel- after Rachel and Kurt change out of their costumes, spend a couple of hours there, before heading back home, seeing as they all have early mornings tomorrow.

Once they get home, Rachel trudges to the bedroom and passes out on the bed. "I can't feel my body." Rachel groans into the pillow. "Can I sleep forever?"

Quinn laughs, "Only if I can join you, because I don't think life would be all that fun without you."

Rachel smiles against the pillow, "You're sweet." She says, looking up at her through her eyelashes.

"I've been told." Quinn says, sitting down beside Rachel, and leaning down to take off her shoes.

Rachel grins, saying nothing, her eyes following Quinn's hand, and studying her every move. She takes a deep breath, and says, "Santana told me."

"What?" Quinn asks, confused, followed by a dreadful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"About LA. I know you're leaving again." Rachel says, her tone calm and collected.

"Baby…" Quinn sighs. "Is that why you were-"

"It's fine. I'm okay." Rachel says, reaching for her hand, and intertwining their fingers, "I think I'm used to it by now."

"We weren't supposed to get used to it." Quinn says sadly. "You promised."

"I know." Rachel says, squeezing her hands tightly, "I love you."

"I love you too." Quinn says, leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead, nose, before lingering on her lips. "I'll let you get some sleep. It's been a long night."

"Kay." Rachel yawns, sitting up to kiss Quinn one more time before heading to the bathroom. Quinn slips out of her dress and into something more comfortable. Deciding to make herself a cup of tea, she walks over to the kitchen, turns on the kettle, and then settles herself into the couch in the living room.

A freshly showered Rachel walks into the living room a couple hours later, clad in pajamas, and curls up into Quinn on the couch, burying her face in Quinn's neck, and clutching at her shirt. Quinn rubs her back and tells her that everything will be okay, "I'm going to miss you too, Rach." She sighs sadly, kissing the top of her head.


End file.
